Strange Frontier
by speccyboy
Summary: 1st-person account of the events unfolding in the VF universe (based mainly on the first two games and the anime series) from the eyes of an OC. PM me for further details on OC biography if interested.


**Strange Frontier**

 **A VF Fan Fiction**

 **1st-person account of the events unfolding in the VF universe (based mainly on the first two games and the anime series) from the eyes of an OC**

 **Disclaimer: I own nothing (except my OCs)**

 **Chapter 1**

* * *

 _ **21 October 1992**_

Thank fucking God – the final date of this bloody long tour that's taken me around the world at least three times in a whole year. I'm not complaining, though – I met some interesting characters on the way. I wouldn't have made it this far without my friends and bandmates – lead singer and guitarist Valery Harkov and drummer Hans von Braun (Valery is a male name – he's Russian). The scene is a college in San Francisco, California, USA. Backstage, I could hear a voice feebly try to pronounce my name. _Typical Anglophones – they can't pronounce a non-English name correctly without me having to correct them._ Looking up to track down the voice's owner, I saw a rather attractive young woman with blonde hair and a cute smile to boot. _Is that her? I swear she was giving me the eye during the show. For a keyboardist, I'm actually quite popular, which gets right up Valery and Hans's noses._ I chuckled. 'Yes, that's me.' I spoke up as I got to my feet. 'If you can't pronounce my name right – Gaetano – then you can just call me Gordon. Everybody else does.' I chuckled. Then it hit me who she was: Sarah Bryant! Her brother was the racing driver Jacky Bryant – poor bastard had just gotten out of hospital following a year-long stint thanks to an "accident" – sounds like a deliberate ploy to me. _You're talking to Sarah Bryant! Don't just stand there, you tit, speak up!_ My mind screamed. 'Hi.' I smiled slightly nervously. 'Did you like the gig?' I do my best to make small-talk as I curse to myself in Italian.

'Liked? I loved it!' Sarah replied with a slightly girly giggle. For a woman pushing 20, she certainly had a certain peculiarity about her. 'Listen, Gordon – I was wondering if you could do me a favour.' She asked in a slightly pleading tone.

'Sure, anything.' I responded. _Why? WHY did you reply in the affirmative, you imbecile?_ I cursed mentally.

'Play a show at the mansion on Halloween.' She responded calmly.

'Halloween? You mean on 31 October? But that's only a week and a half away!' I countered – not that I didn't want to disappoint her, but my friends and I had been touring for more than a year and we were eager to take a break.

'Oh, come on – please?' Sarah responded, smiling at me.

'Just say yes, Gaetano – otherwise she'll be at it all night.' Valery replied, exclaiming in Russian. Hans responded by making a joke in German before laughing his head off.

'Look, Sarah… we've been at this for a year.' I spoke up in a reasonable tone of voice. Before I could continue, I could feel a large, muscular arm grip me by the front of my clothing and drag me forwards. I cursed in Italian before finding myself coming face to face with a lean man with spiked fair hair. _Jacky Bryant… I figured as much – where there's one, there's the other._ His hand went up to my neck, causing my eyes to begin popping out of the sockets.

'Listen to me very carefully: You want to make my sister happy, don't you?' Jacky asked – his reputation for being protective of his younger sister was well-known in the entertainment and sports communities. I nodded wordlessly. 'Good – then you're going to play the show for her at the mansion. Are you green?' He continued.

'Super green.' I replied in a strangled and slightly high-pitched tone of voice. Jacky released me, causing me to drop to the floor. 'That hurt, you imbecile.' I complained. He didn't respond as he turned to his sister with a slight smile. She smiled slightly sheepishly. I watched them leave as I coughed slightly before propping myself up.

'You have a special way of talking to people, do you know that?' Hans asked me, speaking English for the first time since our gig in Vienna, Austria on 13 May. I just stared at him vacantly, not even bothering to dignify his stupid joke with a response.

 _What the hell have I - Gaetano Adriano Mancini - gotten myself into?_ I thought. _I didn't think I'd be assaulted by overprotective older brothers when we first hit the big time in 1989._ I just shook my head and helped myself to a bottle of red wine – _Vino Ronco._


End file.
